


as dangers fade

by Victorionious



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Forgiveness, Gen, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Rain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 19:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9780785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorionious/pseuds/Victorionious
Summary: Mark has a nightmare and does what he’s always done. Derek shelters him from the storm.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place sometime shortly after s4e1 "A Change Is Gonna Come." Eternal thanks and praise to Lexie for being The Best, Always.

_if I look back and he is screaming,_  
_i'd left him dreaming, the dangers fade,_  
_i'll run back and shake him tightly_  
_and scream "if they want him, then they're gonna have to fight me"_

\- "night terror," laura marling

* * *

 

Mark showed up at the door of the trailer at 2 AM, soaked from the same rain that had been hammering on the shoddy roof for hours and hours. Derek was already awake - Mark knew he would be, he always was on nights like this. Derek walked to the door and let Mark in without a word, handing him a towel and a change of clothes before shutting the door behind them.

The lamp was on, in the living area, radio quietly playing some classic rock station that Derek wasn’t especially invested in, especially now that his guest had arrived. Mark looked tired, dead tired, more tired than he’d looked all those nights when he’d done the same damn thing when they were kids.

The thunder was loud, deafening, and the lightning blinding. Mark curled up on the couch as he always did - not this couch, not yet, but Derek had known it was only a matter of time from the moment “I came here for _you"_ reached his ears.

Mark wasn’t sleeping well. Mark never slept well, not alone. Sometimes not even _with_ someone, and sometimes Derek wondered if that’s why he _slept_ with so many people, in the carnal sense, because sometimes, once for every blue moon, they’d stay. Derek tried not to wonder that too often; it hurt in a way that tasted like failure. He took the chair next to the couch, and brought his knees up to his chest, leaning against the cushion and staring at the person he was only somewhat surprised to be able to call friend, again.

Mark said nothing, but Derek didn’t really expect him to. Not on nights like this, when the darkness was palpable, and the violent storm somehow only made things quieter. Mark said nothing, but the way he wrapped the proffered blanket around himself so tightly and spread out on the couch like he’d been doing it for the years he hadn’t spoke volumes that words never quite could manage. The way his entire demeanor seemed to relax, shoulders only clenching at the boom-clap of the thunder, then relaxing, bit-by-bit, until the next.

There had been a time, not so long ago, that this time was sacred. That Derek knew exactly what to do, where to touch, what to say, to make Mark calm, and on the best days, fall into a restful sleep. He’d been able to read Mark like an open book, in ways that eluded him now, been able to tell what he needed, which nights. When he needed to hear Derek’s voice, to know he wasn’t alone, until long after he lost awareness of the world. When what he needed was the quiet, the touch of a hand to his, the feeling of Derek wrapped protectively around him, like if he just held tightly enough nothing could ever hurt him again. There was a trust, a blind, beautiful trust, that Mark had granted Derek, all those years ago.

Derek wasn’t sure he still had it, now. Wasn’t sure he wanted it, or he’d even know what to do if it was given to him. Wasn’t sure if it would be given freely, or if he’d have to buy it back with time and care.

He didn’t know this Mark, that sat before him, curled in on himself on Derek’s battered old couch. There were pieces of the man he’d left behind, but someone else had grown in the cracks that Derek, when he was being honest enough with himself, admitted were his responsibility.

When Mark flinched, the next clap of thunder coming too soon to prepare for it, Derek decided it didn’t matter. He’d learn. He’d do anything to get  _that_ expression off Mark’s face as soon as possible. It was with this commitment that he stood from his chair and moved to the couch, leaving some space between them still. He glanced at Mark, whose eyes were dark and wet, face twisted with fear and apprehension.

Derek didn’t know what to do, where to start, what to say. He was floundering in a way he always seemed to flounder, these days, when it came to Mark Sloan. He reached his hand forward, then retracted it, biting his lip. Mark looked away, and his breaths were coming too quickly. Derek extended his hand again, placing it on Mark’s shoulder in a way he hoped was comforting, rubbing small circles in knotted muscle, moving the hand to his back as Mark took what Derek was offering, leaning into him with enough force that Derek could tell he’d been holding himself back from his familiar embrace. Derek brought his other arm around Mark, pulling him until his chin rested on Mark’s forehead, lips in his damp hair. He held the back of his head gently and felt as Mark broke, hot tears running down Derek’s neck, soft sobs ghosting across his skin.

It took Derek too long to realize some of those sobs had shape, meaning. “I’m sorry,” Mark whispered into his collarbone between gasps of breath. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Derek.”

Derek felt his hand clench into a fist where it laid on Mark’s back and made a point to relax it before responding, “It’s okay. It’s okay, Mark, I know.”

Mark’s breathing didn’t calm right away, but when the breaths had evened out, punctuated by infrequent but body-wracking hiccups, Mark leaned back. “I slept with Addison,” he said, a confession, like everyone within a ten-mile radius didn’t already know. “I ruined _everything_.”

Derek smiled serenely, like he’d seen into the future and knew that everything was going to be okay, somehow, and said, “Everything was already ruined, we just didn’t see it yet.”

Mark stared at Derek in complete bewilderment, then, shocking Derek to the bone, let out a laugh. It was not any laugh Derek ever hoped to hear again. “What?”

The look in his eyes was something akin to awe as he said, “It’s just, how many times are you going to let me fuck up before you’re done?”

It was Derek’s turn to stare. “Excuse me?” he said, fingers tightening on Mark’s shoulder.

“Nevermind,” Mark mumbled, leaning his head back into Derek’s shoulder. “Forget it.”

But Derek couldn’t let something like that go. “No, Mark, _no-_ ”

Mark chuckled again, contradictorily leaning closer into Derek even as he said, “I thought we were _done_ , this time. You always fucking surprise me, Derek, and these past few months you were acting like I was always fucking waiting for. We were done, you’d finally got on the level that everyone fucking else was on, you’d figured out where I rank. And now?” He gestured at them with one hand, and Derek wished, almost as much as he wished Mark wasn’t saying these things, that his hand wasn’t shaking. To compensate, he grabbed it and held it tight.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and Mark shot him a glare.

“What do _you_ have to be sorry for?”

“For making you feel like that, for starters.”

“You fucker, I deserved it.”

It was a gutshot, and Derek pulled him closer. “Never,” he whispered, and Mark knew he meant more than just the past few months. The word lodged in his chest.

“It-” Mark had to take a steadying breath before he continued, choosing his words carefully. “It doesn’t matter if things were already a mess,” he said. “I still… fucked  _everything_ up. It was me. Not you. Not Addison. It was still what _I_ did.”

Derek snorted, despite himself. “I’m pretty sure Addison had _something_ to do with it.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

Derek looked at him. “Yes, I do, and you’re wrong. You didn’t seduce Addison into cheating on me. You didn’t drug her. She chose to sleep with you just as you chose to sleep with her. It was a mutual thing, Mark. She could’ve said no, and you would’ve stopped. You could’ve said no, and _she_ would’ve stopped. And it might not have happened in the first place if our marriage was fucking _healthy_ , or if I’d been spending _any_ time with _either_ of you for a _very long time_ before then.”

He made eye-contact with Mark and held it. “It wasn’t your fault. It was all of us.” Derek looked away, eyes brimming with tears for the umpteenth time that night. “I loved you both so much but it just… it wasn’t enough. It still wasn’t healthy. If it wasn’t that it would’ve been another thing. Something had to give.”

Mark nodded against Derek’s chest, and Derek held him tighter.

“I love you, you know. That hasn’t changed,” Derek said. Mark flinched, hard, but Derek had been expecting that.

“Don’t,” Mark whispered. “Don’t joke about that.”

Derek had been expecting that too. “I’m not. I’m sorry I made you think otherwise, for a time, but I love you, Mark.”

“Fuck.” Derek knew Mark was crying again. He didn’t need to feel the tears on his shirt, but they were there as confirmation anyway.

“We’re okay,” Derek soothed. “I’m sorry it took me this long, but we are. We’re good, we’ll be okay.”

Mark fell asleep like that, face wet and breaths labored, but he’d already been tired enough when he got to the trailer. There was something about Derek. Even when Mark wasn’t sure where he stood with the man, he never felt safer than when he was in his presence, let alone completely surrounded by him.

After Mark’s breathing had steadied, Derek sat for a while longer, trying to match his breaths to his friend’s. Now that Mark’s consciousness had faded, Derek could let himself feel what he’d been holding back, and the first thing he felt was his lungs, not getting quite enough air.

The deep, steady, sleeping breaths supplied a pattern Derek could follow, even as the guilt gnawed on his lungs. He pressed a hand to his mouth to quiet the sobs threatening to break free as tears leaked out his own eyes, and before long, despite all attempts to the contrary, Derek had to crawl out from under Mark.

He padded quietly to his bathroom, shut the door behind him, and leaned against it. Sharp wracking inhales and shuddering exhales escaped him, muffled by his hand.

Derek had been given something precious, once. And it hadn’t been perfect, things never were - perfection was a myth, unattainable in relationships or science, but even if it had been real, Derek knew he’d find it boring.

Derek had been given something precious, and he’d honored it as such for what seemed like a very long time _at_ the time, but --

Derek had been given something precious and he’d smashed in on the floor like a rambunctious _child_ , and now, despite everything, despite what he probably deserved, he’d been given it back.

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a little bit of the next day written up that I will post eventually but this does still stand alone.


End file.
